I got a great gift yesterday. It came wrapped in confusion.
A few months ago, I was approached by a group wanting to establish a center to train the intellectually disabled in work skills. Since our complex had un-leased space and the cause was dear to my heart, I said yes. I gave them discounted rent and wished them well. Their front door is about 20 yards from our front door. From the street it is confusing which door one should enter for which business.
What I didn’t think about when I said yes to this tenant was that my company would now see at least once a day one or more intellectually disabled persons walk through our front door without a clue where they were. This week, during a horrendous rain storm, our receptionist rescued a man who had been dropped off by a transportation service at the wrong time. The door was locked to the training center. He stood in the rain. He didn’t know what to do.
Once my staff got him inside, my general manager found the gentleman was not communicative, nor was he comfortable being in what he clearly knew was not the right place. He repeatedly went back outside into the rain to stand. Ultimately, through phone calls and internet searches, we found the people who dropped him off and got the gentleman back to his home.
When I said yes to the training center being in our complex, I never asked my employees if that was OK. I never thought it through because if one did, clearly you’d see confusion like that coming.
So in our management meeting yesterday, I asked my management team if I had overstepped my bounds, if I had committed them to managing something that they didn’t sign up for. Their little heads cocked to one side. I said, “This group doesn’t have to be tenants here.”
They looked like cute little puppies, confused, their little ears perked, trying to understand why I would say what I was saying. I said, “I didn’t ask you if this would be OK or if you’re good with helping these people when they need it.”
Finally one said, “We just need to make sure they don’t drop off anyone when the center isn’t open. I mean, what if we weren’t open to help?”
My wonderful people blew right past “she didn’t ask me if I was OK with this” to “I get to take care of someone.” They slipped into the role of hero and heroine without knowing they did it, without blinking, without feeling put upon.
I thank God I work with these people. I thank God I am in a position to offer things to this special population. I thank God for this special population because they give us the stage upon which we can play the good guy, and that’s a gift to us.
